


Dress Not Included

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Sam Winchester Reader-inserts [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 21:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10975926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: Prompt: “Cinderella never asked for a prince. She asked for a night off and a dress” + Movie/Netflix Marathon for @one-shots-supernatural‘s Birthday Challenge. Happy Birthday, Kayla!





	Dress Not Included

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing onto Sam to keep from falling when your heel catches on a crack in the sidewalk and tears your shoe right off. **  
**

He chuckles. “Easy, Cinderella. I’ve got you.”

You glare, but lean on him as he kneels to retrieve your shoe and return it to your foot. His hand lingers on your ankle, fingers stroking along the curve, before he lets go and stands.

“Does this make me Prince Charming?” he says teasingly, offering you his arm.

“Ya know, **Cinderella never asked for a prince** ,” you point out. “ **She asked for a night off and a dress.** ” He pouts and you roll your eyes. “Yes, you can be Prince Charming.”

Sam grins. “How about when we wrap this case up, we have that night off.”

“Dress included?”

“Dress included sounds good to me.”

* * *

“I think we’re looking at a shifter,” Dean says when you enter the motel room, Sam following close behind with bags of food. He taps his finger against something in one of the case files spread out across the motel table.  “I talked to the lawyer’s wife-”

“Mrs. Havershem,” Sam interjects.

“-again and she identified the man who attacked her as Peter Kirk-”

“-the first victim.” You close some files and set them aside to make the room for the food. “Sounds like a shifter to me. That or a ghoul with a taste for the living.”

“We only met one set of ghouls like that, so my money’s on shifter.” Sam sets down the food and settles into the other chair. As soon as you’ve kicked off your heels, he pulls you down to sit on his lap. You giggle and throw an arm around his shoulder, leaning in to kiss him softly.

“Get a room,” Dean grumbles playfully. He’s smiling when you glance across the table at him, though, so he can’t be too upset. “After dinner, we can go over the map Sam found of the sewer system.”

You make a face and Sam chuckles, warm vibrations from his rib cage to yours. “I ain’t going down there.”

“You sure?” Sam says teasingly, reaching for his sandwich even as he nuzzles the side of your neck.

“Very sure. You guys get that pleasure. I’ll be the getaway driver.”

“You make crawling around the sewers sounds like a bank robbery,” Dean snickers.

* * *

“Alright,” Dean says, slamming the trunk of the Impala. He turns to you and holds up the keys. “Don’t run the battery down. Keep your ears open in case we need your help. Take-”

“-care of her. I know, Dean. Have I ever mistreated the Impala?”

He sighs and hands over the keys. “Never, I know. Just… be careful.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “I’ll treat her like the special lady she is.”

“Good.” Dean cocks his gun and turns away just as Sam’s big arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Stay safe, okay?” Sam murmurs into your hair.

You turn in his embrace and smile up at him. “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

He pats the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, fingers brushing against yours in the small of his back. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know. I still worry.”

“It’s ‘cause you love me,” he says in a teasing tone, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“Mmm, maybe.”

“Alright, love birds. We need to get going.”

“Be safe,” you sigh, giving Sam one last squeeze.

“I will.” He kisses you again before slipping away after Dean.

Once they’ve disappeared down the manhole, you settle into the front seat of the Impala to wait. You put the keys in the ignition, but don’t turn the car on. The night is a little cool, but you crack the driver window anyways to keep fresh air flowing and zip up your jacket so you don’t get too cold. You flip through your social medias, keeping one eye on the manhole for when the boys come up.

You’re stretching almost thirty minutes later when your phone buzzes where you set it on the seat next to you. Frowning, you pick it up and turn on the screen to read a text from Sam:

_911_

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, dropping the phone and scrambling from the car. Your gun is already loaded with silver bullets and has been sitting in the passenger seat beside a flashlight, both within easy reach. You barely remember to grab the keys as you go. Dean would kill you if the impala got stolen, no matter your excuse.

They left the manhole open and you more slide than climb down the ladder. You pause at the bottom to listen, only to be slammed to the ground by something much heavier and stronger than you.

“Sam?” you gasp, staring up at him.

He grins cruelly, eyes glinting silver in the light from your flashlight. “Try again.”

Definitely not Sam.

You squirm in the shifter’s grip, managing to land a punch to his jaw. His head jerks, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen. Your stomach clenches as he turns cruel too-familiar eyes on you.

“Mmm, I can see why Sam likes you,” he purrs, fingers so tight on your wrist that you know you’re going to have bruises. Bruises that will perfectly fit the hands of the love of your life. “Maybe I’ll keep you.”

You can see your gun out of the corner of your eye, glinting silver and black just within reach- not that it does you much good, with your wrists pinned like this.

Desperate, you snap your head forward and right into his face. The shifter cries out and jerks back, reflexively releasing his hold on your wrists to cover his nose. You take advantage of the moment he needs to recover to flip your bodies, pinning him under you as you grab for your gun. You press the barrel to his forehead, close your eyes, and pull the trigger.

You can feel the moment the life goes out of him, body limp beneath your own. You draw a deep breath, dropping the gun and letting your body fall sideways, not looking at the dead shifter. Your jeans are already ruined, so you don’t mind too much when you land in a shallow puddle of what you hope is just water. You give yourself a moment to recover before using the rungs of the ladder to pull yourself to your feet.

“Sam?” you call, bending to pick up your flashlight. “Dean?”

“Down here!”

Even with the echos, you’re pretty sure Dean’s voice is coming from the left. You head that way, keeping up your yells and listening closely for his responses. You eventually emerge from the tunnel into a chamber-like area, where you find the boys tied to separate poles. Sam is unconscious, but breathing. You rush to him.

“Hey, Sam,” you say, kneeling beside him. His head rolls loosely when you cup his face in your hands. You can feel a bump forming on the side of his head, but there doesn’t seem to be any blood. “Sam,” you repeat, gently patting his face.

“Come untie me and I’ll help you get him out,” Dean tells you. He looks a little worse for the wear, but otherwise fine. You cross the chamber and make short work of the knots- a few more minutes and Dean likely would’ve freed himself. “Thanks. Let’s get him out of here and head back to the motel.”

“I call first shower,” you declare, already returning to Sam’s side.

“You didn’t even go crawling through the sewers!” Dean protests, holding Sam’s weight as you untie the knots.

“Hey, I wanted to stay in the car, and yet I’m the one who killed the shifter. I think I get dibs on first shower.” You duck under Sam’s left arm while Dean takes his right, both of your working to lift him.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

Sam’s soft groan draws both of your attention. His eyelids flutter and he licks his lips, head falling towards Dean.

“Hey, easy,” Dean says, shifting his grip on his brother to free up a hand. “Easy.” Sam’s eyes open and he grins his lopsided big brother grin. “There you are. Come on, lean on me and we’ll get you out of here.”

“Okay,” Sam mumbles, managing to get his feet under himself. Only then does he seem to register your presence. “Y/N. What’re you doing?”

“Saving your ass,” you inform him with a soft smile, feeling much better now that he’s awake.

He returns your smile. “That’s my girl.”

“Can we get going?” Dean interjects, using the hand around Sam’s waist to poke your belly. “I don’t want to be down here any longer than I have to.”

Together, you support a still-shaky Sam back to the ladder. Dean sends Sam up first, following right behind him. You pick up your gun, avoiding looking at the shifter’s body, and start to follow.

You’re almost to the top when your foot slips out from under you.

* * *

“Easy,” Sam murmurs, lowering you onto the bed in your shared room. You wince when the movement jostles your boot-covered ankle. “There we go. How’re you feeling?”

“Sore,” you tell him. “But I’ll live. Still can’t believe I killed the shifter, but got defeated by a slippery ladder.”

Sam chuckles, setting your crutches against the nightstand before sitting beside you on the bed. “You’re down to one shoe again, Cinderella,” he points out.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I haven’t seen that movie in years.”

“What? Cinderella?”

“Yeah, the old Disney one.”

“I have it. It’s i On the shelf by the TV. I have all the other Disney classics, too. Wanna watch them?”

“Shall we make tonight our night off?”

“Sounds good to me. I don’t even mind the lack of a dress.”

“We’ll save the dress for another night. Is Dean invited?”

“Hell no.”

Sam laughs and kisses you softly. “Alright. You put whatever movie we’re watching first in. I’ll make popcorn.”

“Deal”

He hands you your crutches and heads to the kitchen. You make your way to the TV cabinet and pull all the Disney classics off the shelf. You put Cinderella in the player and the rest of the discs on the nightstand within easy reach before sitting against the headboard. You let the DVD play through the previews and it’s just reached the menu when Sam returns with a bowl of popcorn. He turns off the lights and joins you on the bed, offering up the popcorn in return for wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“This is good,” he murmurs as you press play and snuggle against his side.


End file.
